BRENT

While I have no independent recollection of the events of my birth year, I assure you that all of those events noted above are part of who I am, especially as it relates to music and art.

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My earliest memories (mostly musical) materialize in about 1966 when I was three. My dad had a low-fi tank of a stereo console that he spun his modest collection of records on, usually on Sunday mornings. Thanks to my dad, I quickly became tangled up in the sounds that began to shape my life. I remember being instantly drawn to many different sounds including one of the most searing clarinet passages ever recorded, from George Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue”. I was equally drawn to the bottomlands bass vocals of Tennessee Ernie Ford’s “Sixteen Ton”. My head then bobbed along with the lilt and the groove of the Dukes of Dixieland’s take on “Beale Street Blues”. And my whole body would, without my permission, groove to the boogied up beat of Benny Goodman’s “Sing, Sing, Sing”. But our house had it all. I'd sneak upstairs to the inner sanctum of my older brother's world, where I was ushered into the sounds of the 50's and 60's with his record collection that included Chubby Checker, The Rolling Stones, Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels, The Doors and Tommy James and the Shondells. I'd unlawfully blast his 45's on his suitcase Westinghouse stereo (today I shudder at the damage my excitement may have inflicted on that vinyl). But I really did have the best of all musical worlds in my very own house. And like Screamin’Jay Hawkins raged, it all "PUT A SPELL ON ME."

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Music specifically, and art more generally, has always been so much more than a one-dimensional way to pass the time for me. It is a living, breathing three-dimensional companion that makes everything ok and transports me to an amazing place that I usually don't want to leave. Over 60 years it has come to define me. 

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For her entire life, my mother embarrassed me by recalling the story of when I jumped up in the church pew after a particularly spirited offering and yelled out, “Sing it again!” Thirteen years later (at my first rock concert) I would be expressing that same sentiment for Kiss to do exactly the same thing. Crazy leap, huh? Even before Kiss, I had been indoctrinated into the world of live music, having attended numerous concerts with my parents - everything from our local philharmonic to the Dave Brubeck Quartet to some of New Orleans' greatest musicians at Preservation Hall. It’s only today that I can fully appreciate those experiences. But when my brother took me to see “Ladies and Gentlemen: The Rolling Stones” at a local arts theatre in 1972, that might have been the experience that completely sealed my fate. I didn’t sell my soul like Robert Johnson at the Crossroads, but you could say I developed more than an ounce of “Sympathy For The Devil.” After that, I wanted to be Mick Jagger (the pirate Keef as I got older).

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By the time of that first Kiss concert, I was already a decade into being a player myself. When I was six, we had purchased a small spinet piano and while I initially held my breath at the proposition of taking lessons, I quickly gave in to the call of being a musical participant. Before it was all said and done, I learned to play the trumpet (thanks to my NOLA sojourn) in the school band, orchestra and jazz ensembles. I also sang everywhere I could for anyone who might listen. In high school I joined my first of many rock bands as a singer and leaned into some Joe Walsh, Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin. In college I taught myself enough guitar to further enhance my versatility. I also wrote and noodled around in the recording studio with my college friends. We were everything from Bad Brother Bone to Forgotten Sons and a litany of other band names that seemed to change weekly. The point is - music was always there for me and remains to this day the greatest solace and deepest part of my journey. I'm grateful to the many friends and bandmates that were with me then, and even now in spirit as we all continue to chase our muse.

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Music and the related visual arts remain my constant companion. Throughout my day music is pounding out the beat of my life. It's in my head giving me peace and comfort. It's even in the shower thanks to ever-evolving technology. It’s simply never far away. And now with this opportunity to help cultivate YOUR love of music and art and to help YOU curate your collection, I feel like I have a greater purpose for the rest of my ride. Hop into Three D's "Portal To The Past" and lets see how far we can go!